


Chime

by TaergaLive



Category: Batman - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 03:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive
Summary: Just a drabble as Jonathan fights to go to sleep





	Chime

Even in the dim lighting, the tiny silver bell still gleamed. Jonathan held it lazily above his face, lying still on his cot. Gently, he rolled it around his fingers, gazing at it but not really registering it was there. He had no clock to tell him the time, but his own internal clock told him it was well after midnight. With a quick flick of his wrist, he rang the bell. It was a short, soft chime, but it rang through the cell and fill Arkham’s silence for a brief second. The air felt much more still than before he had rung it as if the bell had scared away any secret noise from before. He quickly flicked this wrist again, allowing it to ring true again.

Sometimes, when the melatonin supplements weren’t kicking in, Crane was left to entertain his mind while Arkham slept. He had his book still tucked away under the mattress. When Lights Out first began that night, he had started reading it. But one can sustain reading in the dark for only too long before it begins to hurt. He wasn’t sure how long he read, but his eyes felt very dry, and he was having trouble focusing on anything for longer than a few seconds. The bell didn’t provide entertainment, not really. But it was soothing. Something familiar. Something he had for a very long time. So long, in fact, that he wasn’t quite sure when or where he got it. It was as if it was always there.

He started to flick his wrist in a more uniform way, allowing the bell to chime proudly every 8 seconds. The action was childish, but he wanted to see how long he could continue before someone started complaining. Would it be a guard, already annoyed with having to babysit these monsters? Or another inmate, whining about having their sleep disrupted? The thought made him smile slightly, making him realize that the delirium was starting.

After minutes of ringing the bell, even though no one said a word, Jonathan dropped his arm to the side, relieving the bell of its sole purpose. Just the thought of holding the bell up exhausted him. Even though the world started to bend, even though his body cried out, he still wouldn’t sleep. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was that he _couldn’t_ sleep or that he _wouldn’t_ sleep. Turning so his back was against the cool cement wall, he closed his eyes and thought that he didn’t matter why he was not asleep. And even though he wouldn’t drift off to sleep, he could still give his eyes a break.

He heard it before he felt it, the creaking and snapping of…of what? Bones? Sticks? They sound so similar after all. He felt the arms wrap around him in a comforting embrace. The room felt different. It sounded different. He kept his eyes shut.

“These long nights are so…boring,” the voice rang out like broken glass. Leaves rustled in the gust, but the air was still. “I could make things more fun.”

Jonathan’s eyes opened slightly, but he was quick to close them again. The voice was soothing, like the bell. He wanted to keep listening to it. What did it have in mind?

“You know quite well what I have in mind,” the voice continued, followed by a shallow giggle. “Let me out. We could watch the whole world writhe.”

Crane would like that very much. To hear the screams of his fellow inmates. To get inside their heads for even the tiniest of moments. To watch the “mighty” guards panic. He allowed himself to smile.

“Just let me out,” The voice was like a whisper, but it resonated all around him. The leaves got louder as if a storm front was coming in. “Let me out.”

Jonathan’s eyes snapped open as he twisted himself to face the wall. He could almost feel the silence slam back into the room. He scowled and cursed himself for opening his eyes. He scolded himself for letting the voice speak. Swiftly, he got out of the cot and started walking the length of the cell. He was too old to still believe in It. _It_ was not real. _It_ was not in control. _He_ was in control. _He_ was the Master of Fear, not It.

Jonathan stopped walking and leaned his head against the wall. He didn’t need It. He never needed It. It was never real. It couldn’t be real.

He suddenly felt helplessly alone.

Sighing, he turned so his back was against the wall, and he allowed himself to sink down to the ground. Daytime was still miserably far away. Hopelessly, he closed his eyes. If he couldn’t sleep in his bed, what made him think he could find salvation on the floor? Jonathan didn’t care. He just wanted the night to be over.

Somewhere, far away, he could hear the soft chime of the bell. 

**Author's Note:**

> Something a wrote a few years ago and decided to post since I finally have somewhere to post it. Based on an old folklore of Scarecrows carrying silver bells to lure children to kidnap for faeries (I honestly cannot find this information anywhere but I've learned it before)


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